The Sharp-Toothed Horror
by thebabewiththepower15
Summary: Sherlock Holmes has landed a case in which sharks are attacking day by day at Camber Sands. He encounters a marine biologist who has moved into the flat next door. His bright-and pretty-new neighbor claims that she knows the reason behind the animal's strange behavior. Sherlock is intrigued by the case; and by her. Sherlock X Reader
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing!…

BFN= Best female friend's name

E/C=eye color

H/C= hair color

F/N= first name

L/N= last name

…

Life has been interesting this past week, to say the least.

Now,you can successfully state that you are a college graduate. It all happened very fast over the years, and you got your credits out of the way a few months early, much to your surprise. A year or so ago, you were given an internship by a team of scientists to study marine biology, led by your physics professor, Will Oaks. You hadn't seriously considered the major at first, but you needed the money, so you took up your professor's offer. Over the past year, you loved studying the many species of beautiful fish and plant life- it was exhilarating.

After celebrating your 21st birthday party, you got a surprising offer from your internship; they wanted to give you a job! The only catch was that youwould have to move to London, which you had mixed feelings about. On one hand, you were ecstatic to travel that far. On the other, you wouldn't know anyone at all. You almost declined when you heard about your best friend (BFN) also moving to London to be close to her makeup company's headquarters( she was an advertising executive), and to follow her dream of being a model.

You decided to look for a flat together and settled on one of the last good places you had found, one on Baker Street. It was Friday; the day of your big move. You had met the sweet landlady, Mrs. Hudson. She gave you each a key to your flat, and told you that it was 222 B. You had opened up the door to your flat, cringing at an out of tune violin being played in the room next to you; 221 B.

"Fantastic" You mumbled, tossing your (H/C) hair behind you.

You walked over to ask them politely to quiet down, when (BFN) grabbed your hand.

"No. Let's not cause conflict." She warned.

You went inside your flat to set down the last few boxes before a look around the flat, your (E/C) eyes processing; the living room contained menial sofas and tacky wallpaper. The only trace of décor that was on the wall was a simple mirror above the fireplace. The kitchen was marble and small, but usable. There was a guest bathroom, two identical bedrooms, and a larger bathroom next to a small coat closet.

"What do you think?" She asked, (E/C) eyes shining hopefully.

"Not bad. Could use some love. What are these? Holes in the wall?" You asked.

You heard gunshots this time, cracking the mirror atop the fireplace. You rolled up your sleeves."

"BORED!" said a male voice through the wall.

"SHERLOCK! What are you doing? What if someone had been on the other side of that wall?"

"Oh, please, John. Don't be ridiculous. That flat has been abandoned since Mrs. Hudson first…"

"Ahem!" You cleared your throat authoritatively, opening the cracked door to 221 B. The softer voice belonged to a blond man, who was looking up from his laptop, and the other man, a tall brunet, stood with a gun to his side, staring intently but calmly.

Your roommate came up behind you cheerfully, placing her hands on your tense shoulders as a mother would to her child.

"We are your new neighbors!" She squealed.

The blond man walked up to her.

"Dr. John Watson." He said, shaking her hand.

"(BFN**)**" She said flirtatiously.

You stepped up to him, glancing up to his….brother? Lover? Flatmate? The brunet was gazing thoughtfully out of a window. You looked back to the blond.

"(F/N) (L/N). Nice to meet you, Dr. Watson." You answered.

He glanced over to the man, concerned.

"This is Sherlock. Sherlock Holmes." Watson indicated to (BFN) and you.

"Pleasure." He said, not removing himself from the window.

"Sherlock! Come meet our neighbors! You almost shot them after all!" Watson called.

Sherlock caved in, walking slowly towards you.

"Sherlock Holmes." He said shaking your hand. He glanced around your body, momentarily making you feel uncomfortable.

"You were on a diet for a while, as I can tell by the loose fabric of your jeans. However, maybe you cheated on the diet, as a receipt from Sonic is in your right pocket- I guess it wasn't so important after all. You also appear to be right-handed, since the nail polish is significantly more damaged than your left fingernails. You don't smoke because all you have is your phone and the receipt in your pockets, besides your wallet. Ah, and a box cutter. You have just moved, and have not unpacked everything yet. You are unmarried and not in a relationship, as judging by your lack of a wedding band or jewelry that would suggest otherwise, and willingness to move away. You also are a marine biologist, as I can tell by the logo on your hoodie, slight tan lines, sun-bleached hair strands, and the callous on your right hand from documenting and studying, which is probably the reason you moved here from that long distance from home, judging by your accent. Am I wrong?"

Your eyes were widened. You looked over to (BFN), who returned the look.

"No. You were dead on." You answered.

Watson glared at Sherlock.

"Do you need help with the move?" Watson asked (BFN).

"Nah. We're okay. Thank you." She said.

"I'm sorry for…" Watson began, scanning the bullet holes in the wall.

"Don't mention it." (BFN) said.

(BFN)had turned to leave when you followed her. Watson tapped on her shoulder.

"I could take you to the diner…if you'd like of course." He asked hesitantly.

"I'd love to." (BFN) glanced at you, smiling.

Watson looked at Sherlock.

"Would you and (F/N) like to go?" He asked, looking back and forth between the two of you.

"I have to go to my mind palace." Sherlock answered seriously.

"Um…thanks, John. But I really have a lot of work to do. You two have fun." You answered.

And so, you walked back to your flat, taking your clothes out of a box and hanging them in your small bedroom closet.

"Mind palace? What is a mind palace?" You asked out loud to yourself. You jumped like a startled cat when you heard a deep voice behind you.

"It's a thinking technique, really. You think of a place, like this room, and you think clearly and effectively that way. You left your door open." Sherlock placed his hands in his coat and sat on your bed unceremoniously.

"I…thought you had work to do." You said.

"The case is solved. The butler did it."

"So you're a detective?" You asked, hanging up your last shirt.

"The world's only consulting detective." You sat down beside him as he spoke.

"Fascinating." You tilted your head while looking at his face. Something was familiar about it. A light bulb went off in your head.

"Oh! I've read Watson's blog a few times. I didn't recognize you without your hat!"

"I hate that hat." He answered.

"You look better without it."You answered without thinking.

He raised his eyebrows. You changed the subject.

"Would you like some tea?" You asked.

" Your cooking supplies aren't unpacked yet." Sherlock said.

"Oh, right…." You trailed off.

"We can go back to my place for some tea, and come back here to help you to unpack." He said with a slight grin on his face. He held an arm out to lift you off of the bed.

…

"That sounds great. I said I didn't need help, though." You said, sipping your tea.

"You were just being polite. Anyways, I don't want your first impression of me to be your crazy neighbor with the shotgun." He said warmly. You stifled a giggle.

"I had many back home. Especially on the Fourth." You both laughed uncontrollably.

You two talked all night about your jobs, roommates, and flats while unpacking until (BFN)and Watson came back from their dinner date.

Sherlock was putting on his overcoat, about to leave when he grabbed your wrist.

"(F/N), if you're interested, I had a case come up. Something about shark attacks at Camber Sands. Would you be willing to come check it out with me?" His eyes looked sad and hopeful all at once.

"Well, sure, anything you need." You answered.

"Great." He said, giving you a quick hug, which caused a surprised look from Watson.

"Bye!" Called (BFN).

The door to your flat closed, (BFN) rushing to see you.

"Wow, (F/N)! Everything is unpacked! How did you manage?"

"I had some help from Sherlock." You slipped a nightgown over your head.

She smirked mischievously.

"How was the date? You get lucky?"You asked jokingly.

"Fantastic! We mostly talked about you two."

"Uh-oh." You said jokingly.

"He was a doctor in Afghanistan, (F/N)! And he is just adorable!"

"Wow." You answered, taking your socks off.

"And he has a blog and everything! He works at the hospital just down the…."Your best friend's voice faded as you lay your head on the pillow on your bed.

The night went quickly by as you drifted off into a deep slumber, exhausted but still excited for tomorrow.

….

The door to 221 B closed.

"What was all that about?" Watson asked Sherlock, who was in a robe on the couch, reading a newspaper.

"I helped our new neighbors move, and made us some tea." Sherlock said, not glancing up from his newspaper.

"No, not that! The…the hug!" Watson said.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Sherlock responded.

…


	2. Chapter 2

"Here" Sherlock said, handing you a stack of photographs. You were thankful you had eaten breakfast at Speedy's Café before seeing them, although blood and gore did not usually make you feel squeamish. They showed lacerations of the skin of the three victims- one in which was decorated by a shark's tooth stuck in the middle of a bloody scar. You tugged at your (F/C) tank top nervously; you were going to be shown the actual evidence today. The waves crashed over the golden-brown sands of the beach, cyan seawater barely missing your boat shoes.

"Where is John?" You asked out of curiosity.

"He said that he was busy. Blogging, I assume." His blue-green eyes scanned the beach around you. The beach had been cluttered with do not enter tape and the scenery would have been peaceful if not for the danger in the water. You were walking alone and were thinking to yourself that it would have made a good date, walking on the beach. You quickly caught your mind wandering, though, and decided to focus on the case, when out of nowhere, the brilliant detective grabbed your hand as you were walking. You did not know what to do, so neither of you said a word, although you had caught a glimpse of a blush on his right cheek.

You finally came up to the scene; the police where everywhere. A woman in her late teens to early twenties was dead on the beach. Her skin was ashen pale, and a fly landed in her open eye as she lay motionless. You shuddered.

"Her name was Grace Kay. She was nineteen." Lestrade said to Sherlock, nodding to you.

Sherlock leant over the dead woman's body, scanning for evidence.

"Any ideas?" Lestrade asked.

"Nine so far." He responded. His gaze turned to the wounds on her neck.

"What do you think, (Y/N)?" Sherlock asked.

"Huh? Oh. I think that it's kind of weird that it's on the neck. Most sharks go for the feet or legs, from my research." You leaned down to better see the bite. You noticed a tooth inside of the neck wound, and used your gloved hand to take it out.

"Ah. Definitely a Great White." You said, examining the sharp white tooth.

Sherlock smiled.

"Brilliant! Are you noticing a pattern?"

"Yes. On the male victim, the wound was on the chest, but on the women, it was the neck. Something is attracting the sharks to that area of the body…but why?" You trailed off.

"That is exactly what we need to find out… Come on, (Y/N)! We are going to the lab!" He took a few samples, and hailed a cab back to London.

…

CLICK! CLICK!

Your best friend smiled in front of the cameras, holding up a pink bottle of perfume. She wore a long goddess-like gown of the same color while laying down on a solid white sheet , fans blowing the gown and her long (H/C) hair ever so slightly.

"You are a brilliant model!" The photographer said, shaking her hand after stepping away from the camera.

"Thank you." She said humbly.

She changed into her favorite T-shirt and jeans and walked back to 222B, where you were sitting at the table eating Ramen noodles.

"How was it?" she asked merrily.

"Good. We found out some interesting things." You said nonchalantly.

"Did he…" She asked.

"Did he what?" You asked curiously.

"No..nothing. I have a date with John. See ya!" You stared as your best friend, now wearing regular clothing, ran out of the door with her jacket and phone.

_I wonder what's going on_… you thought. Your phone beeped.

_(Y/N),_

_Thank you for helping earlier. You saved me a lot of time from my work. Will you be able to come over tonight?_

_-S H_

'_Sure! What for?' _You texted_. _Your phone beeped after a minute.

_I need you to sleep with me._

-SH

You raised your eyebrows.

'_Sherlock…' _You texted him.

_I am doing an experiment on sleeping alone versus sleeping in a cohabited environment, and trying to find out which is better for the immune system. I need you to be there. John wouldn't help._

_-SH_

You giggled.

'_Okay! What time?:)' _You texted again.

_Nine._

_-SH_

You looked at the clock. It was time. You threw on a scarf and a navy jacket over a nightgown and skipped to the apartment next door. You knocked on the door to 221B.

"Hi!" you said as Sherlock opened the door. He was dressed in pajamas and a robe. You shivered underneath the coat you had on; the nightgown you had on wasn't very warm or insulated.

He closed the door and offered to take your coat. You let him, and suddenly felt indecent in your sleepwear. Sherlock seemed not to notice or care, so it calmed you down.

"So…How's this experiment going to go?" You asked because you were curious.

"It's pretty simple. We sleep in the same bed, and I will scan our blood for the amount of white blood cells then versus now."

"Oh." You didn't like needles, but decided to be brave about it.

The two of you walked into Sherlock's room, which was clean, but had books strewn throughout. You saw his bed, a nightstand which held an alarm clock and a lamp, and a window with the curtains closed.

"Well…goodnight then." You crawled underneath his sheets. They smelled good; clean, like a hint of cologne and the smell of old books and earl grey tea. You rested your head gently on one of the pillows. He crawled into the other side and the mattress sunk a bit. His form warmed up the sheets quickly, or at least, you had imagined it. You fell into a gentle slumber along with Sherlock.

…

You woke up about two hours later for no apparent reason. You decided since you couldn't sleep that you would at least help with the experiment. You wrote down some notes about the way he slept, and you were taken aback when you realized just how peaceful he looked in the light of the lamp.

His cold sea green eyes were now gently closed by his lids. His dark curls were like that of a child's, messed up but still curly and youthful. His cheeks were a pale pink color, as if he had been dreaming of something that he was passionate about. A small, slow breath came out of his lips, in and out.

_His lips_. They were so full, and so soft. You were embarrassed to admit it, but in that moment, it tortured you to know that yours would never be able to touch them. You stepped closer to his sleeping form. No one else was here. It was just the two of you. _But could you get away with it_?

_I can't steal Sherlock's first kiss! ,_ you thought to yourself.

_But no one will ever know,_ said your inner mischief-maker.

Smiling, you bent down to his face, hesitating just above his lips. You leant all the way down, an attraction pulling you closer and closer…

It was paradise. Your heartbeat raced, and you felt a thrill run through your veins. You lingered there for a few seconds more, all thoughts of right and wrong going away from you.

_I was Sherlock's first kiss_, you giggled in your mind. You were about to leave the room to get the bizarre feeling of accomplishment, mischievousness, and infatuation combined out of your system when you heard a bag fall to the floor behind you. You turned around to see who it was.

_Oh no, oh no, oh_…

"H-HI John!" You said as nonchalantly as you could.

"What the he-" John stood with a sassy, I-caught-you-in- the-act sort of way.

"SHH! SHH It's an experiment!" You said, checking to make sure Sherlock was asleep. Luckily he was.

"I found you, scantily clad, in the bed of my flat mate, kissing him, and you're telling me that it was an experiment?" He asked.

You did not utter a word.

"He never said anything to me…" He walked closer to you, arms crossed, smiling sardonically.

"T-that can't be right. He asked you to be a test subject." You stammered.

"No he didn't." John said.

"That's not what he told me!" You said childishly.

Sherlock woke up, sitting in the bed, rubbing his eyes.

"What's this all about?" He asked irritably.

"NOTHING!" You said. _Nothing, tra-la-la…_

"(Y/N ) was telling me about your… experiment." John said.

Sherlock raised an eyebrow.

"Well, I told you, didn't I?" Sherlock said.

"No, you told (Y/N), though." John said.

"You must not have been there when I asked, John. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have an experiment to run." Sherlock walked into the bathroom and slammed the door.

…

Sherlock's POV

He walked up to the bathroom mirror, gazing at the corner of his lips.

_ . The color of (Y/N)'s._

He smirked to himself, washed his face, and walked out of the bathroom.

"_The results were positive indeed…" He said to no one in particular._


	3. Chapter 3

**Your POV**

You expected to hear many things on the beach, but not gunshots.

You had parked your boat, the _S.S. True Love_, back into the dock for the day. Throwing your notebook and pen into your satchel along with seawater sample you collected near the reef, you wiped the sweat of your brow onto your sleeve, which smelled strongly of seawater. _I really need a shower_, you thought. You were just about to open the door to your cab when you heard the initial shots.

POW! POW!

You immediately ducked and saw the five men in the distance on the beach; they shot at least eight, as you could tell by the blood. The gunmen were all dressed in black and in masks. They seemed to kneel down to the victims, which took you by surprise. The cabbie, a dark-complexioned woman, pulled you into her cab protectively and she drove away quickly.

You ran into your flat, where you noticed (BFN) talking to her boss, Ellen Ross, a blonde woman in her forties.

…

**Best friend's POV**

(BFN) poured the woman a cup of tea.

"I'm so glad you could join me for dinner, Ellen!" She beamed.

"Anything for my rising star!" she said, smiling back.

The woman sipped her tea.

"You have increased sales significantly just by modeling in the ads. You are a fashion icon, (BFN). Do you realize what this means? Audrey Hepburn did for Tiffany's what you're doing for this company. That's why I think you should quit your job as an advertising executive…." She sipped her tea again. (BFN) tensed up.

"… and take a raise as a model for our commercials instead. We'd pay you to be our 'Marlboro Man' of sorts, only for _Mademoiselle Collette_. Think of it! We have a perfume line called _La Attraction_. It needs some intriguing appeal." She sipped her tea.

"Well, I… I don't know what to say." (BFN) said.

"Say yes, of course!" Ellen laughed, her vivid red lipstick highlighting her laughing lips. The two hugged, Ellen's white pantsuit momentarily getting caught in (BFN)'s dress.

"Yes! I'll take the job!" (BFN) said.

Just then, you burst through the door, eyes widened, and panting.

…

**Sherlock's POV**

_It is a slow day for crime_, Sherlock thought. John sat across from him, typing on his laptop yet again.

"Did you find anything on my blog?" Sherlock asked.

"I don't know. Let me check." John opened a new tab on his computer.

"Nope. Nothing." John answered finally.

"I suppose I'll turn on the telly." Sherlock decided.

Sherlock's mouthed gaped open.

"Oh no… not her…" He stood up and ran to the flat.

Sherlock opened the door to find (BFN) sitting with a woman, presumably her boss, and (Y/N) standing in front of them, looking at each other inquisitively. The two women and you glanced over at Sherlock, growing even more confused.

"At Camber Sands….there was a massacre. I came to make sure everyone was alright." He said.

John stood behind Sherlock. (BFN) turned on their T.V. set. The news further explained the story.

Sherlock turned to grab his beeping phone.

_Massacre at Camber Sands. Come at once._

_-Lestrade_

"Come on, John. We have a crime scene to go to." Sherlock said, turning to leave.

"I'm going too." You said, grabbing your hoodie and phone.

"Oh, no, you're not." Sherlock said, pulling the hoodie away from you.

"Why not?" You demanded.

"I thought I lost you once, but I'm not going to lose you again." Your eyes widened at his words, and widened even further once he placed a kiss on your lips.

"Oh, yes, I am! And on the way there you're going to explain to me why you just did that!" You replied haughtily.

"That's easy; the same reason you did whilst I was pretending to sleep." Sherlock said.

Your eyebrows raised, blood rushing to the inside of your cheeks.

"I…I.." You stammered, trying to think of an excuse.

"You know, not many people wear that color of lip gloss. I know I don't. I know John doesn't. I know. You. Do." This time when he leant down, you kissed each other passionately, out of infatuation for each other.

You both panted as you broke apart, realizing that there were three other people in the room. They were all smiling.

"You owe me ten." John said to (BFN). She gave him money out of her wallet.

"You were taking bets?" You asked them.

"Yep." They answered in unison.

"So everyone knew about the kiss?" You asked Sherlock.

"Except for Mrs. Ross. She knows now, though." He answered.

"Ms. Ross, dear. I'm divorced." Ellen called.

You looked into Sherlock's eyes.

"Look…I…promise I won't get lost." You said.

"I believe you. Why don't you get cleaned up first? There's no hurry." He assured you, placing a hand around your back.

"Thanks."

…

You were ready to go now, wearing a striped sweater, dark jeans, boots, and your coat.

"Sherlock? John?" You called into the flat. They were nowhere to be found. Nor was your own roommate, apparently.

"Where could they have gone?" You thought to yourself. You walked over to the note on your fridge.

_Went to get milk, we ran out_

_-(BFN)_

You wondered why your phone wasn't working as you texted Sherlock and John. You sighed and went down the steps to use the phone booth down the block. You dialed the number, which you were surprised that you remembered. When you did, the phone rang instead. Confused, you answered it.

"…Hello? You must have the wrong number. This is a phone booth."

"Get in the cab." A man said on the other end of the phone.

"Excuse me?" You asked.

"Look to your left. It's a camera." You did, noticing it.  
"There are cameras all around you. I would make some sort of threat, but I'm sure you are aware of the situation that you're in. Good evening, Miss (L/N)."

"Now wait right there!" You said. You were sure that this was an elaborate prank. The line went dead. You noticed a man holding a cab door open for you. Sighing, you got in.


End file.
